Opprobrium
by ShizukaSelphie
Summary: It was my job to kill the Potters that night in July, but I got cold feet at the last minute and scurried off to join Dumbledore. At least, that's how Voldemort thinks it happened.


**Opprobrium**

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own anything Harry Potter.

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Chapter 1

"Severus will do it."

"Severus? But, my Lord, Severus has yet to prove himself fit for such a job!"

"Wormtail proved himself to be quite capable, and I'm sure we can expect the same from Severus. Severus obviously has more brains than Wormtail."

"But... the _Potters_. We should give him an easier first kill than them."

"Nonsense. You hate the Potters, correct?" Lord Voldemort twisted to face me in my shadowy corner. He and Lucius were discussing my next job.

"Yes," I answered, my mind completely blank. He stared at me, but I did not stare back, choosing rather to look past him at a painting of Seckler the Savage.

"This will be fun for you," he laughed after a moment of studying my face. "Such fun."

Malfoy watched me coldly from behind him. I had a feeling he knew my secret, but I knew he would not dare utter a word of it to Lord Voldemort. In the past few months, Voldemort had began trusting me so much that he was about to assign me to the most important job of all. And Malfoy hated me for it. Before me, _he _had been Voldemort's top lapdog, and now, I was his most honored servant.

And the one he should have trusted the least.

"My Lord, you have no idea what pleasure this assignment will give me," I said clearly, my mind still black-bursted. He grinned.

"Yes, Severus... it is almost complete. Prophecies can be disproved."

He laughed again, every note of it penetrating me to the bone.

* * *

My descent into Lord Voldemort's dark world had begun almost seven months earlier in late January.

I was twenty-two, and had been living on my own since graduating Hogwarts four years ago. I was working in Knockturn Alley at the time in a Potions shop... Potions had always been my strong point in school, but I refused to submit myself to working for the Ministry; they were a bunch of Muggle lovers, always trying to protect the Muggles and the Mudbloods from whatever should come their way. Although I agreed with the Dark Lord, concocted illicit mixtures for him, and was friends with many of his followers, I also refused to submit myself to his group for four years, until that fateful day when one of his staff approached me personally.

"Narcissa tells me you're very good with Dark Magic," Lucius Malfoy was saying to me as I ground up grindylow hearts for an internal drowning potion he had ordered.

"She tells you correctly so," I replied, carefully peppering the large blue grains into my simmering cauldron. A light purple mist steamed out of it, so I magicked the flame out from underneath the cauldron and began bottling the potion, which was a translucent blue.

"You know you could be doing much better than this," he told me as I corked several flasks at once with a swish of my wand. I avoided eye contact with him. Yes, I knew that, but no, I did not want to commit myself for eternity to Lord Voldemort.

"Your potions, Lucius," was my dry response as I bundled his order up neatly and placed them on the counter between us. His steely gray eyes flashed at me.

"Do you decline an offer to join the Dark Lord?"

"That will be twenty galleons for the lot, Lucius."

"Are you denying Him? Answer me, Severus!"

I couldn't help myself. I looked right into his stormy eyes. "I am denying no one, Lucius."

Right then I knew I'd made a mistake. I'd made eye contact. _Fuck_, _fuck, fuck _played over and over again in my mind. Malfoy was almost as skilled as Lord Voldemort at Legilimency. I accidentally knocked over a jar of pickled dragon tongue to my right.

Malfoy gave me a slow, arrogant smirk. "Pray tell, Severus, what exactly is making you so nervous in my presence?"

"Nothing," was my automatic response as I used a vanishing spell on the broken jar and its previous contents.

"Why do you refuse to 'commit yourself' to Lord Voldemort? Do you fear him, Severus? Do you fear what he will make you?"

"Not in the slightest," I lied. I decided I didn't care what Malfoy had seen with his moment glance into my mind; I wasn't going to directly admit I had no desire to join ranks with him or his kind.

"Then why not join us? The Dark Lord's plan is coming to a climax. All of his followers will be rewarded greatly when the end comes for a ll the muggles and mudbloods. I assume you've had wind of the prophecy?"

"I have," I answered truthfully, looking down at the potions I had just finished brewing for him.

"Then you know that it is coming. By the end of July, it will all be over. Their last hope will perish with a swish of Lord Voldemort's wand. So I ask you now, Severus; will you perish along with them, or will you join us and forever be held in glory?"

I paused, actually thinking about his last statement. "Twenty galleons, Lucius," I finally said.

Malfoy sneered at me and threw the money on the counter before grabbing the package off from in front of me. "You've chosen wrong, Severus. You'll regret this in the end. You'll regret not using your powers to aid Lord Voldemort."

And with that, he Disapparated.

Little did I know then what was going to happen as a result of my refusal.

As I readied myself for bed that night I wondered... was I even really that good with Dark Magic? Sure, I had always favored it in my studies, but what was one to expect, with a family background like mine? I supposed I was good enough at it, as I had always excelled in both the offense and defense aspects of the skill, but in school, I had always been much more interested in mixing ingredients and seeing what sort of concoction I could make that day. Potions were so logical, so precise; most Dark Magic was guesswork, and guessing was not something I had ever approved of.

I settled myself into bed, thankful to be a wizard who could easily supply their own heat and not a Muggle who had to rely on cheap furnaces. It was a deathly cold night outside, and I pulled up the covers to my neck.

I kept my bedroom completely dark, so when there was a sudden popping noise in the air, I had no idea where it came from. I instantly reached for my wand on the night stand beside my bed, but it was gone. My fingers fumbled clumsily on the polished wooden surface.

"Too slow, Severus," drawled a familiar voice from beside the night table. "_Lumos_!" I heard him say, and the room became dimly alight, an orb of blueness emanating from the tip of Malfoy's wand. He was not alone. At least five other cloaked wizards were standing around my bed. My heart thumped wildly in my chest as my mind raced. What had I done? Was refusing to join Lord Voldemort when you had enviable powers really such a sin?

The whole group laughed.

"My, my, Severus," Malfoy continued. "Are you cold? This _is_ such a dismal little flat. For someone who professes to hate muggles as much as the next pureblood, you sure do live like one."

More laughter. I thought I recognized some of the others, but it was hard to tell in the darkness.

"Out of bed!" he suddenly abandoned his drawl of superiority as he pointed his wand at me and I was risen to my feet by a power I couldn't control. "You have guests! The Dark Lord would regret your rudeness if he knew."

I couldn't think of anything to say. Here I was, surrounded by several dark wizards, wandless, and in my boxers. Fear would grip anyone in such a situation.

"Put on some clothes, swine!" Malfoy shouted next, summoning all of my clothes out of the closet. Cloaks scattered themselves everywhere but at me. "NOW!"

A strange force pushed me down to my knees and dragged me to the other side of the room, where a particularly large pile of cloaks lay. I grasped one and threw it on quickly. I stood, facing Malfoy, but looking past him rather than at him.

"Good boy. Now that you are fit to hold a conversation with a wizard, let me... _inform_ you why we are here," he smirked before giving a cold laugh. The others followed.

"If this is about joining the Death Eaters, you already know my answer, Lucius," I defiantly threw at him. I was so young, so naive to the true powers Lord Voldemort had bestowed upon his followers.

Malfoy continued with his smirk. "Yes, I remember clearly our conversation this afternoon. But it is my belief that I did not perform to my capabilities in urging you to join us. Let me show you now...

"_Crucio_!" he uttered, and suddenly my body was overtaken by sharp rips of pain everywhere I could imagine, and I could hear myself screaming before blacking out. When I awoke, it must have been only a few moments after he stopped, I was drenched in cold sweat and shaking. My body lay helplessly on the cold hardwood floor of my bedroom. The whole group laughed at me.

"See what we can do? Wouldn't you love to do that to all those disgusting mudbloods? To all those fools from school who tormented you?" Malfoy said to me, a crazy gleam in his eye. He chuckled. "Your powers would flourish underneath the guidance of the Dark Lord. You could stand over the bodies of hundreds of muggles, all murdered in a single swoop. Now, I ask you again, Severus... will you accept this gracious offer to join the Greatest Wizard of All Time?"

I lay motionless, not knowing what to say, my mind moving very slowly. "Unn...nnnn...nnnn," I moaned.

"Perhaps another dose of pain would quicken your decision?" he asked sharply, pointing his wand, still magically lit, at my head. My eyes must have gone wide at this, because suddenly everyone laughed again. "No, then?" Malfoy sneered. "Then speak of your decision!"

"Yes... ... ..." I muttered, allowing my head to loll to one side. "Yes..."

He grinned. "Excellent. Lord Voldemort will be very pleased, Severus. You have no idea how useful your powers will be..."

And at that, I blacked out again.

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